The fae and the hunter, p.6
The Fae and the Hunter, page 6
“Well, as highly as I regard your advice, I think I’ll keep my own companions, thanks.”
“I’ll be watching you, monster,” the enraged hunter said, poking Fali’s chest.
As his finger touched her, she turned her gaze fully upon him. Ryheart couldn’t quite see her face given the angle, but Harand stumbled back like he had been physically hit, face pale. He looked like he was about to faint.
Violent disagreements in the guild between hunters were not technically allowed, if not actively discouraged. It was only at the point an injury hampered a hunter’s ability to make money for them that the guild tended to get involved.
“Come on, Fali,” Ryheart whispered. “Let’s go before we do anything that draws too much attention, shall we?”
Fali’s gaze lingered a moment, and then she turned to Ryheart. Whatever in her visage had unsettled his rival so much, he couldn’t see. As he led her away, she let out a harsh, guttural sound that Ryheart was surprised she could even make.
He ushered her towards the guild counter. Signing both their names to the bounty and filing the paperwork with the clerk, he rushed them out.
“What exactly did you do?” he murmured.
“Looked at him,” she said with a shrug.
“Just looked?”
“Just looked.”
“Well, I suppose I did tell you to try to keep quiet,” he said. “What was that noise you made?”
“Oh, well, that was a curse word,” she said with a sniff.
“What language?” It was unlike anything he had ever heard. It was more noise than a word, like two rocks grating together.
“Troll. Ghastly, is it not?”
“What did it mean?” he asked, curiosity burning.
“I am not going to repeat it, Ryheart!” she said, sounding scandalised. “If I had wanted you to understand it, I would have said it in Anglasa.”
“Aww, come on.”
“A lady of my standing does not simply speak with such vulgarity in pleasant company,” she said with an indignant toss of her flaming hair.
“Alright, alright.”
“…It is rather satisfying cursing in troll, though,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Maybe I’ll teach you when you’re older.”
Chapter Twelve
Familiar
Olyra sat mulling over reports, having earned a slight reprieve from fieldwork. Her nose still ached, irreversibly crooked now, and her cheek still rankled with burns. She skimmed through the files before her, mainly reports of suspected unregistered magic, to see if any were worth the OPMC’s time. Anything that wasn’t would be delegated to lesser agencies.
She picked up the next in the batch and skimmed over it. It was a filing about a trivial encounter with a Fae-kin from some minor hunter within the guild, one Harand Smithe.
She might have disregarded it, as hunters were famously eager with suspected magic. If the Fae-kin was within the guild, she must have been checked and registered. But the description of the individual sent a shiver down her spine: red hair, the name Fali, and strange markings on her face.
None of these things was worth note by themselves; red hair wasn’t unusual – at least if they meant ‘red’ and not red – some of the allied Fae and even some Fae-kin had various tribal markings on their faces, and all sorts of wild names existed. But all three together?
Though, surely, it couldn’t be the creature, could it? Olyra had seen her die. It had to be a coincidence. Unfortunately, her job didn’t allow for dismissal on mere coincidence. At the very least, this bore further investigation. She put the remaining files to the side for the secretary to look over in the absence of any agents.
Her first order of business was finding the hunter who had filed the report, to question him further.
Ryheart and his new hunting companion found themselves stood in front of a nearly solid barrier of trees, the edge of the Weir Wood. They had taken a short carriage to the far side of the town, which Fali had made quite clear she was distinctly unpleased with.
While he hadn’t any money to rent one anyway, he was glad that he didn’t have a horse. The woods were so thick they might have found them near impassable while riding. A primordial forest had a romantic sound to it, but the reality before him was a tangled, thick mess of vast trees and roots. Despite its intimidating nature, there was a majestic beauty to it, and even Fali seemed awed by it.
“Okay, now that we are well out of the city, give me a moment. We need a guide,” she suggested. “It will give you time to eat before we start in earnest.”
He shifted the uncomfortable weight of his pack off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. The one Fali had stuffed with gear. She took her relatively small bag from her back and took out a tiny seed packed in a clod of dirt.
“Is that all you’re carrying?” he exclaimed, incredulous. It was bad enough his new partner had rammed his bag full, let alone that she had barely anything herself.
“We will redistribute.” She waved dismissively. “This was too delicate to pack with anything else.”
He watched, bemused, as she kneeled and carved a hole in the ground with her bare hand, then packed the seed into it, laying her hand on the soil above it. There was a spark of light, and the grass grew up around her, then a white rose-like flower grew before her. It was substantially larger than a typical rose, and it had a slightly ethereal quality to it.
“What did you need a flower for?” he asked.
“It is not a flower. It is a rabbit,” Fali informed him.
While he wasn’t quite sure exactly what type of flower it was, he was entirely convinced that it was not a rabbit.
“I, err, I think you have your Anglasan mixed up,” he informed her. “A rabbit’s a hoppy thing that eats carrots.”
She fixed him with a profound look of disapproval at that. “Yes, thank you, Ryheart. I am aware of what a rabbit is,” she said tartly.
“Well, why did you call it one, then?” he asked, exasperated.
“Because it is one,” she insisted adamantly.
He sighed a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, I’ll bite. How is it a rabbit?”
“Give it a minute, and you will see.”
“Alright,” he said, taking a small piece of dried meat from his pack and offering her some. “Want some?”
“I already ate.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
He hadn’t seen her eat, but she was clearly distracted by her little project and barely paying attention to him. He chewed in silence as she sat daintily waiting, then she sprang up. The plant glowed for a moment, and then the petals unfurled to reveal a rabbit sat upon it, looking regal upon its flower throne. It had soft ashy grey fur, and ears that flopped down either side of its head. Curiously, it also had green triangular markings by its wide black eyes, like those upon Fali’s face.
She let out an exclamation of delight and picked up the rabbit, and Ryheart caught her eyes as they swirled with pink.
He briefly felt jealous of the rabbit being looked at with such evident love, then felt silly about it.
“Oh, so it was a rabbit,” he said calmly. Two days ago, he might have found that miraculous, but given how upheaved his life had been recently, he was almost numb to it.
“Is he not wonderful?” she asked joyously.
“It is quite regal,” he admitted. “Can I pet him?”
“No, you cannot.”
“Why?” he said defensively. “I won’t hurt him.”
“You can try,” she sang with a knowing smile.
Tentatively he reached out to pat the rabbit, dubious, only to find his hand passed clear through it. He recoiled in shock, and Fali chuckled.
“Why’s your rabbit a spooky ghost?”
“He is not spooky,” she protested in an affronted voice, “nor is he a ghost. He is my familiar. I do not originate from the mundane; I am from the realm of magic. He is still mostly back there, but he can tether himself to me to be here, albeit in an astral sort of manner.”
“Like a witch familiar?”
“Hardly,” she said in an offended tone. “He is a part of me.”
“So, if he’s tethered to you here, are you tethered to him back, well, wherever he is?”
“Very astute.” She smiled. “There might be some hope for you yet. My wings are my tether back home. Currently, though, I am, well, disconnected.”
“Is that a fairy thing? It lets you travel back to magic fairyland?”
“Along those lines, yes.”
The rabbit was staring at him with unblinking black globes in a manner that made him feel uncomfortable, and he shifted slightly.
“So, what’s he do exactly?”
“He is my secret weapon.”
“How? He can’t touch anything, can he?”
Fali looked at the rabbit a moment as if she was determining something, then nodded.
“Well, humans have your DNA and a dozen quirks and foibles that keep you grounded. For me, born in ‘magic fairyland’, as you put it, I am not subject to the quirk of genetics. I would, theoretically, be perfect. Perfect is very dangerous. Nothing other than the Twin-Divinities is perfect. Not even other gods. Instead, we are born with one specific physical imperfection. Our familiar is born to cover that weakness.”
“You have an imperfection?”
“Yes. My designed foible, if you will, is my eyes. You might have noticed they change colour. You have probably put together by now that they change with my emotions?”
“But they’re beautiful. How are they a weakness?” Ryheart blurted, blushing once he realised what he had said.
Fali smiled warmly, and her eyes flooded with purple. “Thank you, dear-heart. Though I might not look it, I am, by design, a warrior to the very core of my being. It is, quite literally, why I was made. Having my emotions read so easily can be dangerous if the wrong people can use them to predict my intent. My little friend here helps me see their hidden character, and judge their trustworthiness.” She paused and smiled fondly. “On top of that, he comes in handy in all sorts of ways. He can pass through things, scout my surroundings, and people tend to pay less attention to him. You can learn all sorts of interesting things when people don’t think anyone is listening.”
“How does he tell you all that when he’s a rabbit? Twitching his nose?”
“Well, since he was born from my essence, we have an intrinsic spiritual tie that lets us share our senses through a multispectral dimensional tether.”
She looked at his uncomprehending face, and then gave a little weary sigh. ‘Magic,” she said, waggling her fingers.
Chapter Thirteen
Woods
After a short break in which Fali ate absolutely nothing, the unlikely duo set off through the dense trees, following behind the grey rabbit as it found the path of least resistance for them. The fact the little familiar seemed to flicker in and out of existence didn’t exactly help Ryheart keep track of him. Still, fortunately, Fali seemed acutely aware of its position even when it wasn’t visible.
“So how do we find this bounty? Wander about until we hear an angry monster?” he asked. The majority of hunting he had done had been within the city, or occasionally within smaller settlements that orbited Londaya. He had minimal exposure to this sort of wild hunt.
“Hardly,” Fali chided. “The bounty said a naiad colony reported it, did it not? We find the lake and ask them.”
“They’ll be friendly?” he asked nervously.
“Of course they are. They are just about the gentlest species on the planet. I am rather fond of them, actually.”
“Oh, good,” he said, relieved.
“Of course, there might be other things in the forest.”
That tightened the knot in his stomach back up. “Wonderful.”
“Say, do we get paid for killing any other monsters we find?” she asked.
“Not if we haven’t taken a bounty for them, no.”
“Ah. We should probably avoid them, then,” Ryheart’s guide said nonchalantly.
“Wait, you weren’t planning on avoiding them already?” he asked, incredulous.
“Not if it meant detouring considerably. We are on a schedule, are we not?”
“One monster trying to eat me is enough as it is, thanks.”
“Oh, alright, if it makes you happy, I suppose we will do so.”
Disconcertingly, he couldn’t tell whether she was just winding him up or not.
“It should be clear, anyway, right? Isn’t there a shield or whatever to keep monsters out?” he asked.
“Well, yes, but it is not infallible. Besides, the shield can only keep things out, not get rid of something already in here. There should not be anything too strong, or your guild would probably have eventually posted a big enough bounty for someone to deal with it. Even if it is ‘only’ a Fae enclave.”
“Phenomenal,” he said, decidedly nervous.
“Ah. My familiar has found a marker,” Fali exclaimed, gesturing towards a small clearing. Her mood at least seemed to have perked up considerably since they had got to the forest, which was frankly the most fairy-like behaviour he’d seen her exhibit since he had met her.
He watched curiously as she approached an enormous tree, stood on her tiptoes and then, with a genteel stretch, stuck her head into a hollow inside its trunk.
“There is a path of sorts this way,” she reported triumphantly.
“Did you just smell where it was?” he asked curiously.
“The tree was a territory marker; it points over that way. Whoever made it marked the path for travellers, how nice of them.”
“Oh,” he said, scrunching his nose up in disgust, given how animals usually marked things.
She stared at him coolly. “They marked it magically, Ryheart. I would hardly stick my head inside something’s toilet, would I?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s what I thought,” he bluffed none too convincingly. “Do you know who marked it?”
“Not a clue,” she said, sounding way too merry about that lack of knowledge for his liking.
“So they might be dangerous?”
“They have made a path specifically to make travel easier, and I doubt they need it themselves given any Fae are unlikely to leave their territory. I think we are fine.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“I think we can get to the lake within about three days if we make good time,” she declared. “From there, we will have to see what we can find. It might be a little tight, but as long as it does not take us too long to track it down, we should be able to get back before your deadline.”
“We better, otherwise there’s no point going back at all,” he murmured.
“It will work out,” she said with a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Some hours into the walk, Ryheart’s feet were aching, then his back, then his entire body. Fali’s pace was unrelenting despite her stride being nearly half that of his own.
By this point, monotony had overcome both wonder and caution, and he trod along, focusing on nothing but keeping pace.
He was semi-aware of a slight movement, and he stopped in his tracks. Off in the distance, just barely visible, was a set of globe-like eyes staring at them.
“The Friggana is that?” he whispered to Fali, pointing.
“Not Friggana,” Fali said calmly, seemingly already aware of it. “Dryad.”
“What do we do about it?” he asked, panicked.
“Her,” Fali corrected mildly. “And we do nothing. Is she really the first one you have noticed?”
“Err, yeah? There’s been more of them?” he said, eyes fixed on the creature as they walked nearer.
“We have passed thirty-seven of them, dear-heart. This one is a bit younger, so she is not as adept at blending yet. I am surprised you have not noticed any of them.”
As they passed by, Fali gave a small wave at the creature, and it ever so slightly tilted its head to her.
He couldn’t help a not-so-subtle stare as they passed. The strange Fae had slightly rough-looking skin, the brown of a tree and a large pair of amber globes that stared at him. She was about his height, but everything was elongated, her gangly arms hanging down nearly to her feet. A mossy mess of hair hung down her back, and vines tied all manner of accoutrements to her. Her toes burrowed into the soil like roots, and she carried a bow, many jointed fingers wrapping several times around it. He took his eyes off her briefly, and when he looked back again, he couldn’t see her at all.
“What in the gods’ names was that about?” he exclaimed.
“As I said, that was a dryad. They are quite remarkable creatures. Born with seed in their hands that they plant at birth. Their health and life are intrinsically tied to that of the tree.”
“Why was she just staring at us? Can’t they speak?”
“Oh, they can speak. Far too well, in fact. Dryads have a minimal concept of time beyond seasons. She would have chatted for days, weeks. All of them would. Given we do not have that much time, I asked the trees to convey that we were on the King’s business. The treaties they are bound by say none of the King’s men can be molested on their travels, so they are giving us space. That was the easiest way, given you are male.”
“Why would that matter?” He frowned.
“Well, dryads are all female, and they rely on travellers, to, ah, ‘fertilise’ new growth. They can be quite persistent.”
“What, they’d just consider me a resource?”
“Why, imagine treating something different because you do not understand it,” she murmured wryly. “That is something humans would not do at all.”
“Not like that, we don’t! Not like you’re just tools for us to use!”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Is that not how you viewed Fae?” she asked.
